Echoes
by Amp
Summary: Every year, Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King, receives a mysterious guest who hints at a past that brushes on the edge of the monarch's memory. A follow up to "I Am The Pumpkin King."


Okay! Here's the happy little disclaimer bit! I don't own any of the Nightmare Before Christmas folks. They are NOT mine. They belong to Tim Burton. Human Jack, however, along with Amelia, Mr. Skellington and Mrs. Skellington, belong to me.  
  
This story premise was inspired by a fic I read from another genre. I thought it might be interesting to apply it to Nightmare Before Christmas, specifically as a follow up to the story, "I Am The Pumpkin King." For those of you tuning into this as your introduction to my writing, I strongly suggest first reading "I Am The Pumpkin King". This story will make a LOT more sense if you do.  
  
Echoes  
  
A Follow Up to "I Am The Pumpkin King"  
  
By, Amp  
  
Almost time.  
  
Jack smiled as he set the second place at his table for his guest. Only once a year, so he thought he owed it to his friend to make things nice.  
  
He stepped back and tapped a bony finger against his mouth, carefully scrutinizing his work.  
  
Across the crooked table was a cloth of slightly torn, stained linen edged with what must have at one time been elegant Irish lace work. A tarnished, silver candelabra held aloft three half-melted candles, each now casting a sickly orange light upon the chipped china tea set. Jack smiled at the spoiled finery and deeply inhaled the fragrant pumpkin tea.  
  
Next to Halloween, the annual visit he received from his dear friend was his favorite day of the year. Gracious, deep down the skeleton almost felt that this day was something even more special than his holiday. He'd never admit that to anyone, of course. It wouldn't do, what with him being the Pumpkin King and all. Jack's thoughts were interrupted suddenly when he heard his doorbell scream out. Smiling, Halloween's monarch went to his door, walking in his spidery gait, and threw it open to greet his guest.  
  
"It's so marvelous of you to come!" cried Jack, grinning to the figure standing in his doorway. "I have tea already set out for us. Do come in!"  
  
In the doorway, standing calmly with his hands held behind his back was a young man, perhaps in his late teens or early twenties. He was a lanky thing, seeming all arms and legs, and quite slim. The youth was dressed in a suit of coal black with white pinstripes, a neat bow tie hanging at his throat. His eyes were large and deep, seeming a bit too big for his finely boned face which was framed with dark brown hair. The boy smiled to the Pumpkin King amiably. "Always a pleasure," he said before stepping inside.  
  
Jack nodded vigorously, starting back toward the table. "How have you been? Has the year gone well for you?"  
  
"Oh, it's been all right, I suppose," said the boy, taking a seat at the table Jack had set. "Same old, same old. Yourself?"  
  
"It's gone quite spendidly!" the skeleton declared, pouring his guest a cup of the amber-colored tea. "This Halloween was quite possibly the most terrible we've created yet!" Jack opened a small jar in which squirmed a small black mass and offered it to the boy along with a little pair of tongs. "One spider or two?"  
  
"None thank you," said the youth, holding up one hand with a smile. Jack shrugged his narrow shoulders and poured his own tea, plopping a few of the creatures into the brew. "And how are the townsfolk?"  
  
"All doing swimmingly," said Jack, sipping at his drink. "Dr. Finklestein created a new type of zombie this year. One that doesn't decompose nearly so quickly as the old model. They're quite remarkable, really. Would you like me to show you?"  
  
"That's quite all right," declined the visitor. His dark eyes glimmered for a moment as he stared into his pungent-smelling drink. "And Oogie Boogie?"  
  
"The bogey man? Oh, he's still his wretched self, I suppose. If he comes out of his lair, no one in town ever sees him. Save Lock, Shock and Barrel, of course."  
  
"Of course," murmured the young man. There was a pregnant moment of silence before the human sipped his tea. Jack fidgeted a bit in the awkward instant, tapping the edge of his cup with the tip of one digit.  
  
"Do you like the tea set?" the skeleton inquired with a slight smirk, deciding to break the silence. "It's bone china."  
  
This elicited a chuckle from the Pumpkin King's guest. "Jack, your sense of humor is appalling."  
  
The Monarch of Halloween only grinned.  
  
Elsewhere in Halloweentown, the Mayor was gazing at his calendar and quietly fretting. Wringing his hands, the politician glanced out of his window to the mansion of the Pumpkin King. Every year the same thing. That blasted human would come into town and visit Jack. It never failed to upset the official. The Pumpkin King KNEW that humans weren't allowed here. He knew! It had been an official law since time out of mind, but Jack made an exception for this boy that came every year!  
  
And how cocky he was! Striding through the streets of town and to the mansion as though he owned the place! The very nerve! It struck a chord of indignity in the Mayor and, truthfully, most of the other citizens in Halloweentown. The residents had tried very hard to scare the youth away, but all of their attempts failed. In fact, the young man completely ignored them as if they weren't there at all. After a few years, the ghouls and ghosts simply decided to give up and let the boy go about his visits. Truly, there was little that could be done. They didn't want to hurt him, after all, and try as they might, even the swiftest and strongest couldn't lay a hand on his lanky person, so physically removing him seemed out of the question. What a conundrum this being was! What a veritable pain in the rear!  
  
Heaving a sigh, the Mayor settled down into a chair beside the window and looked back toward the mansion. The door was opening now, and Jack was escorting the human out into the street. They'd be taking their yearly walk through the pumpkin patch by cemetery hill. Their schedule never changed.  
  
* * *  
  
"Tell me," the young human said quietly as he strolled through the pumpkins scattered about the small clearing lying in the curled shadow of the cemetery hill, "do you ever think about things other than Halloween?"  
  
Jack blinked his sockets at his companion. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean, do you ever think about things like.like family, maybe? Or other ambitions, perhaps. Outside of Halloween?"  
  
"Outside of Halloween?" echoed the skeleton in astonishment. "Why, I'm the King of Halloween! The Master of Terror! What else IS there?"  
  
"What about Amelia?" asked the boy, turning his deep gaze to the spook strolling with him.  
  
Jack stopped in his tracks. Amelia. That name sounded so familiar somehow! Where had he heard it before, though? He shook his skull and looked to his guest. "I can't say that I do," he confessed. "Should I?"  
  
"Yes," hissed the boy, his dark gaze blazing for a moment. "You musn't forget her! Don't tell me you've forgotten Mother and Father as well."  
  
The Pumpkin King looked a small step backward, bewildered by his guest's sudden mood swing. "I haven't a Mother or Father," Jack said carefully.  
  
"You did!" insisted the youth, beginning to advance on his host. "You had a Mother and Father and a little sister named Amelia! But they took them away from you!" The human stabbed an accusatory finger toward Halloweentown. "They hired that.that horrible bogey man and they stole your life away! Stole away everything!"  
  
Jack stumbled slightly on a pumpkin as he walked backward, trying to get away from the human, but afraid to take lift his gaze from him. Something about this young man.it stirred a feeling deep inside of the Master of Frights that he couldn't quite identify. Something almost nostalgic but terribly tragic at the same time. "I don't. . .I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered.  
  
"Of course not! You've forgotten! You must remember!" The youth stepped forward quickly and seized Jack's upper arms, gazing intensely into the skeleton's sockets. "Can't you recall it? The snow? The evergreen? How about the gingerbread men and the ornaments? What about your room with all of the books? You were going to be a scholar! Go to college! Remember your family! Mother's smile! Father's eyes! The way Amelia used to hug you around the waist! The way you'd check on her at night and console her when she had her nightmares! Remember, damnit!"  
  
Jack's legs quaked beneath him before giving out and sending him into a bony pile among the pumpkins. Something in the back of his skull was stirring. Visions like faded watercolor paintings flashed across his mind. A tree lit with magical ornaments and sparkling tapers. A man and a woman smiling warmly to him. But again and again, more frequently than the others was a little girl dressed snugly in a thick coat and wool stockings. She was topped with a knit beret with thick, dark coils of hair escaping it now and then, bouncing at her shoulders. Rosy cheeks and sapphire eyes.  
  
"Remember what he did to you! The way he abducted you from the woods like a fiend in a fairytale! How he tortured you in his lair! How he made you into. . .into THIS!" The youth threw a hand toward Jack, looking enraged and sorrowful all at once.  
  
It flooded back to him now. The insects and the fever dreams. The boiling pit and the neon lair. The forest in the night and the rag doll and the red glass balls. More importantly was his home. The snow. The gingerbread cookies. Mother. Father.  
  
"Amelia," whispered the Pumpkin King, his sockets wide and his jaw quivering. He turned his gaze in horror to his bony hands, staring at them in disbelief.  
  
No. This couldn't be. What had they done to him? This was worse than death. Jack fell forward onto his hands, digging his skeletal fingers into the crumbly soil.  
  
They'd taken it away. His life. His future. His family. His dear little sister.  
  
On the rim of one of his hollows, a tiny bead of silvery liquid grew and fell, splashing into the dark earth.  
  
In Halloweentown, the residents couldn't help but shudder as they heard the cacophony of a soul screaming in anguish.  
  
* * *  
  
"-ack? Jack?"  
  
Halloween's monarch opened his eyes, his head seeming to be full of fog. Someone was shaking him awake. Sitting up carefully and turning his gaze upward, Jack could make out the rotund form of the Mayor. The official's 'worrysome' face was turned toward the skeleton. Looking around, the Patriarch of Horror found himself sitting among the pumpkins in the patch by cemetery hill. How odd. Perhaps he'd been taking a walk and had collapsed.  
  
"Are you all right?" inquired the Mayor, biting his lower lip slightly.  
  
"Yes, yes, I'm fine," assured Jack, getting to his feet and brushing himself off. "Goodness! I don't remember walking out here today. How strange. I suppose I must have passed out. Perhaps Lock, Shock and Barrel are playing some new trick," the skeleton said with a smile.  
  
The Mayor sighed softly. "Thank Halloween you're all right." He did his best to look stern. "You know, Jack, I think you really ought to reconsider letting that human in. All he ever does is cause trouble for you."  
  
"Human?" laughed Jack. "Why Mayor, don't be ridiculous! We both know humans aren't allowed into Halloweentown!" Chuckling, he turned and began to stride back toward his mansion. "Come with me back to my house and we'll have some tea." With that, the Master of Frights walked nimbly through the pumpkins and across the cemetery.  
  
The Mayor shook his head sadly before following the king. "Jack," he sighed softly, "you say that every year." 


End file.
